Someone told me the other day that a drabble is a story of exactly 100 words. How did I not know this before? Trying my hand at 100-word stories today, one an hour for 5 hours.
The first story is here.
The second is here.
The third is here.
The fourth is here.
And here’s the fifth and final installment:
Considering his grey-green eyes over a salted glass curve, she smiles. This is a party of sorts, the end of his marriage. A fantasy’s end as well.
She’s married, but for long enough this man’s attention has thrown her with its intensity.
Just the thought this man finds her desirable charges her everyday with voltage.
Now he’s single. She will have to be careful.
“I was a mess. I was sleeping with everybody. Making passes at everyone.”
He meets her eyes and laughs, “Even you.”
She licks the salt from her drink’s rim and crunches it between her teeth.
Huh.
